Performance

‘Ice grinds down mountain passes, carrying memories, thoughts, the drift of times passing. Stones catch, dragging the forgotten to the forefront of minds caught in frozen dreams. A slow drip, drip, the colds clutch lessens and what was once trapped starts to thaw and trickle in whispering torrents. The till of unsorted fragments, lost love, unprocessed past, becomes exposed, bare on an alien landscape. The trickle of ice plays on my mind. It stops, still, fragments and falls apart, slowly. Once we stood proud, solid, holding together valleys and mountains, seas and rivers. Now we are losing ourselves in a fast paced world, too fast, too late. We are melting.’